


Here Comes The Bride

by Measured



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Derogatory Language, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Las Vegas Wedding, Pregnancy, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 01:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3310937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/pseuds/Measured
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with two words: "I'm late."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here Comes The Bride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SkylarkOfTheMoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylarkOfTheMoon/gifts).



> Pinch hit for skylarkofthemoon. Thanks to Hazmad for the beta. Set a bit after Blood In The Water, which is why there's no Engineer or Medic around.

It started with two words:

"I'm late."

It took several seconds of thought. Were white rabbits involved? When he didn't respond, she clarified.

"I'm _pregnant_ ," she said, cutting through his visions of a glorious time-traveling star queen Zhanna, who was about to warn him what the hippies were up to.

He pulled her into a bear hug and spun her around. The world blurred in the spin, in the happiness for just that moment.

"That's wonderful! We'll plan the wedding right away!"

"You could wear the wedding dress, for old time's sake," Zhanna said. She smirked, and touchd his rough cheek. "Make your wedding dress out of an American flag, yes? Do it for Lady Liberty," she said, a husky whisper in his ear.

Before he could even reply, she covered his mouth with hers.

*

Sniper was a real trooper, for a Kiwi. Everyone knew New Zealanders were mythical things, like fairies, but without the healing powers. He'd tried to ask Sniper if he had any magic powers, but Sniper had just told him to fuck off. Soldier had just put a bunch of duct tape until he stopped bleeding. The swearing was proof that he was still alive. Real men swore up a storm, took shots of real, American whiskey, and marched on with more rolls of duct tape in their bags. Some to use on your teammates when they talked about baseball for five hours straight, some to use on the prisoners, and some to make your fiancee a fancy dress.

Though he'd have to get a lot more of the silver stuff, as Zhanna was already starting to show, like she'd drank more beer than Demoman in his Beer All At Once club, though Soldier was drinking for the both of them. Sometimes Demoman pitched in and helped do the drinking for her, like a true friend.

They'd been on the road for hours, with only short breaks from the van. He'd about lost his left hand to get ahold of that cooler full of snacks, but a limb would be a small loss to keep his fiancee well-fed.  
He plopped the blue cooler, streaked with red in front of her, like a hard-won trophy.

"Eat up, you'll need these for the ride on. Miss Pauling doesn't like to stop for food breaks," Soldier said.

"Somehow I'm not surprised to hear that," Zhanna said.

She took a big bite of that drumstick. He had to admire a woman who could eat like that. She was even giving Scout a run for his money, and the boy was all mouth, and could finish off half of the buffet in ten minutes, while talking the whole time.

"In America, there's whole all-you-can-eat buffets. You'll never go hungry again," Soldier said.

"I was never hungry, for we always had bear. But, that is a lie. I was hungry for man. _So_ hungry."

She cupped his chin hard enough that there would be fingerprint bruises hidden by his afternoon shadow in the morning. "But you said, you would not let me go hungry, da?"

"Never. I swear it on apple pie, and the American flag."

He pulled her into a kiss that tasted like quality barbecue drumsticks. Just outside of the van, one of the mercenaries let out a disgusted groan. 

He pulled back and looked up. He couldn't see which, but it was either Pyro or Spy.

Zhanna gripped his coat. "Ignore them. Kiss me harder just to spite them. They will wait."

He was all too happy to grant that wish.

 

*

Spy had parted ways to look into something suspicious three days back, leaving only a healing Sniper, Pyro, Demoman, Miss Pauling other than Zhanna and himself. The van they'd rented had been pulled to the side of the countryside, which was somewhere that was suspiciously not America. He might begrudgingly admit that the green hills were decent, but _nothing_ like the purple mountains majesty that was his home country.

Miss Pauling still held the phone. She'd been gone longer than usual, which had been happening more often lately. She was smiling, something that had been happening less and less through the years. She always seemed to come off smiling after being on the phone.

"Scout just called us, the next stop is Vegas," she said.

A plan was starting to form in his mind. Technically, there were always plans, because he had to be ready when the hippies started using their mind-control flower crowns and lessons of _peace and lack of freedom and punching_ spread.

But this one was _different_. More Elvis, less flower crowns. 

He leaned in towards Zhanna, his palm outstretched. "We could get married by Elvis. There's nothing more American than a poorly planned drunken marriage by an Elvis impersonator, unless you're married by an _eagle!_ "

"What about an eagle dressed up like this Elvis?" she said.

"You're the perfect woman, even if you are a communist," he said.

"You're the perfect man, even if you are a capitalist pig," she said.

They leaned in close for a kiss, the well-worn seat hard against her back. It was harder to fit just right, with her new baby bump pushing into him. He always managed. A good soldier always found ways to kiss his fiancee, even if he had to parachute in for the prize.

"Please wait until you're in your rooms to do that," Miss Pauling said.

Just under her breath, Soldier could hear Miss Pauling say _I'm sound-proofing your rooms_.

"I'll make you scream the American anthem," Zhanna said.

"In your _rooms,_ " Miss Pauling said.

With one harsh glance towards Miss Pauling, she pushed Soldier against the back seat. For a second, he thought she'd balled up her fists, but then he realized that the middle finger was extended. Right where Miss Pauling could see. That fiancee of his could give a killer one-finger salute. 

*

Soldier had never felt so glad to be back on American soil. Sand crunched under his shoes, and got deep into the deep red hotel rugs, he had cactus spines stuck deep in his feet and ass. God bless America.

The hotel was a cheap affair on the rough side of town. In this side, the rugs weren't the deep red to make someone think of royalty, but to hide the bloodstains.

He caught sight of Heavy at the near of the hotel bar. Then again, someone that massive was hard to miss. Especially with a rocket launcher.

Soldier ordered a beer, and sat beside him on the bullet hole ridden red bar stool. Hidden behind Heavy's thick arms were Yana, and Scout. 

At the sight of her sister, Yana rushed close, and gave Zhanna a tight hug.

"Yana, it's been so long," Zhanna said.

"Yes, it has! Bronislava sent some postcards. She really likes the artists in Paris. I met Misha and Scout on a layover in New York. I couldn't help but want to see Vegas."

"Yes, it is very bright," Zhanna said.

Soldier sat beside the group. The stool was high enough that his knees pushed against the bar. He could only imagine how uncomfortable it must have been to a mountain of a man like Heavy.

"Hi, Heavy! We're going to be brothers. _Soon, you will be an honorary American by law._ "

"Me, too?" Yana said. She came back to the bar, just to rejoin the conversation. "Then I'll never be out of place in New York. Are there many bears to fight? I didn't see many before I met up with Misha again and came along, but bears hide in caves."

Scout set down his empty shot glass, and wiped the corner of his wrapped hands. "They're in Chicago, you could probably beat both teams with one hand tied behind your back, especially the Cubs," Scout said.

"Good, I have lots of practice," Yana said. "I will beat all American bears. Even the big ones. I can give them to you as a wedding present, Zhanna. Just think of all the baby blankets we could make with the fur."

Heavy took a sip of his drink, and seemed to consider all of them. "Could be worse. She could have married Scout."

"I am literally right here," Scout said.

"Yes. We know," Heavy said.

Zhanna nodded along. "It's amazing that such a small boy can talk so much. I would have killed him before the wedding ceremony was done to save my poor ears."

"Still here. In fact, screw you, I'm gettin' another drink and seein' where Miss Pauling went."

He attempted to flag down the aggressively disinterested bartender, with little success.

"You must understand Misha, he gave me a ring of ears, and he promises to have a whole wall of the heads of our enemies," Zhanna said. There was a soft tenderness in her voice, the kind he hadn't heard towards anyone but himself.

"I see." Heavy looked like a slumbering bear just awoken. There was a quiet viciousness in his eyes as he turned to face Soldier. "I have raised Zhanna ever since she was a little girl. I am trusting you to treat her like a treasure, no matter what you think of my country."

"Oh, Misha. You are silly!" Zhanna punched his arm. Even light and playful, a right hook like that would leave nasty bruises on anyone else.

"If he ever dares cheat on me, or treats me bad, I'll rip his arms off and beat him to death with them," she said. 

"If that happens, save the last blow for me. It is a brother's promise," Heavy said.

"I know you love me and want to rip any man who harms me limb from limb. But Misha, I don't think I could wait," Zhanna said.

And Soldier smiled, even amidst his new family talking of happy dismemberment.

"Don't worry, I'd help if that ever happened. But it _won't_. I promise on my word as an American, and my medals."

Pepsi cola was scratched out to say Perpul Hart over the front.

"Real glad I didn't. Make that extra glad I didn't hit that," Scout muttered into his drink.

Heavy turned to face Scout. His gaze could have made lesser man faint, though Scout just clung tighter to his empty glass. "I say the same to you. She may not be my blood sister, but I have fought beside Miss Pauling. I will not stand by and let you hurt her. To be killed by me would be a mercy, compared to what Miss Pauling would do to you if you betrayed her."

"Whoa, whoa, wait, I ain't goin' to be runnin' around on her! I've been a friggin' saint--I didn't even hit on your other sisters!"

"He didn't at all, and my shirt was very cute, too," Yana said. She was wearing the kind of floral v-neck which would've given her frostbite in Russia, matched with a black pair of form-fitting pants. 

"See? I'm a hundred percent on the level," Scout said.

Ignoring Scout's input, Soldier slammed his fist on the bar. "And me! You have my shovel!" Soldier burst out.

"And my fists!" Zhanna said.

Soldier gave her a questioning look. She'd shown nothing but irritation and disdain for Miss Pauling after their trip to the remains of New Zealand. 

"We are to be married. Never leave me out of your vicious bloodshed, even if is for people I do not like."

"That's one promise I can definitely keep," Soldier said.

*

When they came out they were tipsier, or as Demoman liked to put it, prone to more explosive decisions. It was in the front room of the hotel, that they caught sight of Miss Pauling, who was dragging several cases of luggage—at least, until Scout noticed and rushed to pull them for her.  
Miss Pauling nodded her head in thanks, and turned her attention to the rest of them.

"There you are," Miss Pauling said.

Miss Pauling looked from Zhanna to Soldier, and cleared her throat. From the point in the submarine, things had only gone downhill. Now they spent as little time as possible together that they could.

"We were able to book a room in a nearby building for the reception. There was a concert of Elvis impersonators planned, but due to the sudden raccoon infestation, and number of missing Elvis impersonators, we were able to get it at a steal."

She lifted her gaze to Soldier. She didn't even have to ask the question. Miss Pauling sure was smart to figure out everything like that. He hadn't even left that large a trail of charred bodies of hippies and destroyed buildings this time. By his standards, it was practically a stealth operative.

"I managed to find a place selling dresses at short notice, and a caterer---"

"Listen, little girl. I will choose own dress. It is my wedding day, not yours."

Scout stepped between them, a dangerous place to be, especially within range of Zhanna's fists. He kept his hand on Miss Pauling's shoulder.

"Hey, hey, I got this, I got this."

"Go on, little man," Zhanna said. 

While he'd had a lot of swagger in the start, he just blanked out seconds in. That was how most of his attempts to talk to Miss Pauling had gone, too.

"Scout? You had something to say?" Miss Pauling said.

"---clam bake," he finished weakly.

"You little masshole," Zhanna said. 

Soldier could only beam with pride. He may have only known her for roughly a week, but he'd taught her all the insults he knew. And she had learned well.

"You and he deserve each other," Zhanna said.

"That's right, we do! " Scout pulled Miss Pauling a little closer. "Also, I was jokin' about the clam bake. My final answer is pizza. That's what should happen. They ain't got pizza up in Siberia, right? And it just ain't right to live without eatin' pizza for so long. And dress....uh whatever you want, but it's Vegas, so cocktail dresses?"

"This pizza, is it delicious?" Zhanna said.

"We punched the Italians until they gave it to us, then we lined our bill of rights with _The right to have pizza and beer_ ," Soldier said.

"I like the sound of this pizza, and I will find a dress. You did well, for once, little loud man," Zhanna said.

"By the way, there's a pool out back," Scout said.

Every single mercenary currently in the room turned to him. One by one, they started to grin. Once again, the crisis was averted with pizza, beer and swimming.

*

 

The hotel had a tiny swimming pool set out back, with a cluster of white beach chairs under big umbrellas. The concrete must have had many cracks that had been filled in over the years, as the surface was largely uneven. Most of the men were splashing about in the clear blue water that smelled thick of chlorine, or sitting on the edge, and getting splashed. All except for Scout, who hadn't even gotten his toes wet. Then again, that was no surprise, given that Miss Pauling was in a dark purple bathing suit.

"So, I got snacks, soda, and the best guns around," Scout said. 

He flexed the best he could with a snacks and soda in each unbandaged hand. "Also, I'm packin' other guns if you know what I mean."

"A .22?" Miss Pauling said amusedly.

"Hell yeah, plus the Scattergun, I don't go anywhere unarmed," Scout said.

"Not even church?"

" _Especially_ not Mass. The mob guys are some of the best Catholics I know; they never go without leavin' money in the collection plate, and bodies in the dock," Scout said.

"Good to know you're always prepared," she said.

Miss Pauling undid the tie at her neck. In that second, a bomb could've gone off and Scout still wouldn't have looked away.

"Just one more thing---I burn easy. Think you could rub some suntan lotion on my back?"

"I---yeah!" Scout said. He all but dropped his snacks and soda at her feet in excitement.

On the other side of the pool, Demoman laughed, and lifted his beer in a mock toast. "He actually managed to clean himself up. I owe ye several doubloons on that bet."

"Speaking of doubloons---" Demoman said. "Since you're me best mate, obviously I'm the one to be the best man."

"I am her brother, I am the natural choice," Heavy said. There was a dangerous look in his eye, the kind which had gotten bears and many a man kiiled in response.

"I'm his best mate," Demoman said. He thrust his thumb to his chest. His brown eyes burned with the kind of anger which usually got whole cities leveled.

Soldier looked from one to another. Each stared him down expectantly. In a split second, he made a choice.

"You're all my best man, and you'll all be wearing the same color dresses," Soldier said.

"That's bridesmaids, Soldier! _Bridesmaids_ ," Scout shouted from across the concrete walk.

"This is my wedding, and you're going to be wearing tulle and a _sparkly tiara!_ just for that, private!"

Miss Pauling smiled at this. "We could have matching shoes," Miss Pauling said.

Scout looked down at her in surprise. His hands were still wet from the sunblock he'd been rubbing over her back in smooth circles."You're into that kind of thing? Look, for you I will wear the sparkliest freakin' tiara and fairy wings, but there ain't bein' pictures, and I ain't goin' to a friggin' wedding like it!"

Miss Pauling looked past him, and shifted in the beach chair to better address the mercenaries.

"Soldier, I believe it's better if you go classic on this. Zhanna is never going to forgive us if my boyfriend outshines her at her own wedding," Miss Pauling said.

"You said the b-word, you actually said the b-word," Scout said.

"Isn't that what you are?" Miss Pauling said.

"Hell if I know half the time, I'm just waitin' around until the end of time here," Scout said.

"That's actually really sweet," Miss Pauling said.

"Just kiss the girl, boyo!" Demoman said.

"Kiss her, kiss her!" came up a chant that even Heavy joined in on. Some of the unrelated drunken guests joined in as well, just for the hell of it.

"I---" 

Miss Pauling turned in the beach chair, gripped him by the shoulders and kissed him. 

Struck dizzy with a loopy grin on his face, Scout promptly fell into the pool amidst the jeering and cheers of his teammates.

*

Halfway to the dress shop, Zhanna passed a little out of the way bridal boutique. The inside was to quote Yana 'foofy' and white, with little flower wallpaper, and lots of white.

"Tch. I would never have white. Blood is so hard to get out of clothes," Zhanna said.

The woman behind the desk about fainted at that. 

Ignoring the woman's disturbance, Zhanna looked through the stock with a wistful expression.

"I wish mama could be here," Zhanna said.

"I miss her too, but Bronislava said she's loving to see all the sights of Paris. We'll send them many pictures, and maybe make a second wedding when your little one is born," Yana said.

Zhanna rested her hand on her stomach. "The first grandchild. Yes, once this is all over, and he makes the Stink Barn Mansion he promised, we will keep her close. At least, when we aren't joining the raid to rid the world of those with insensible haircuts. He told me it is his calling," Zhanna said.

"Everyone needs a hobby," Yana said.

In mere minutes, she was dressed as the traditional bride. The veil was long enough to strangle someone with, or hide plenty of secret papers. The neckline was low, edged in lace, and sleeveless to strike fear in the hearts of any hippies who might try and picket their wedding.

The bell clanked again as the whole group came in. Technically they were less drunk than usual, especially Demoman.

"Soldier! You aren't supposed to see the bride before the wedding," Yana said.

"Miss Pauling convinced me to have no tiaras this time. We're saving all the tiaras for you, Zhanna," Soldier said. 

"I've never seen you in this Tux. Would it make you look like some kind of overgrown penguin?" Zhanna said.

"There's only one way to find out," Soldier said

*

Hours later, Soldier had a bald eagle perched on his shoulder. Zhanna's brilliant idea of it wearing a red, white and blue Elvis outfit couldn't quite work, but he'd managed to get a patriotic flag-spangled top hat for it. Lt. Bites was dressed in his finest, which Soldier would've liked to call The King Sings For The Troops. His helmet spattered red with the blood of communists and hippies covered his little raccoon wig, but Soldier thought it fit. No matter how much he gnawed on that wire, he couldn't free the ring.

Miss Pauling had turned down the idea to have their ceremony in an alley surrounded by trash cans and raccoons for old time's sake. For once, Zhanna had agreed with her.

Instead, it was an audotorium which served its purpose, more or less.

"Who decorated this?" Zhanna said. She squinted at the disco ball and purple streamers as if they might contain a sniper, but not Sniper, as he was already taking pre-wedding shots of the punch with Demoman.

"Scout did," Miss Pauling said.

"He has strange tastes," Zhanna said.

"Yeah, his decorating prowess is basically Prom for a Catholic school with bad slow dancing, but at least he didn't blow up the decorations," Miss Pauling said.

She smiled at Scout as the best men lined up. Despite their best drunken efforts, Miss Pauling had really put it together. He had to admire her sense as a commanding officier. He saluted her once, something like a thank you.

 

Heavy pushed aside one of the chairs and walked Zhanna in. Even if he'd seen her in that dress just a little while ago, there was something about seeing her right at the end of the room walking into his life all over again. Except last time he'd been naked and covered in honey. Just like last night, in fact. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

"You don't look like a penguin, you look much more handsome," Zhanna said. 

"A sexy penguin!" Soldier said.

"Soldier, no," Scout and Miss Pauling said in unison.

"You'll never live in a Stink Barn or cardboard box without a wall full of heads and a bear skin blanket I helped you kill---by the way, I'm a minister, to all that legal stuff, we're married for real now," Soldier said.

"We're going to kill so many hippies together. I can't wait," Zhanna said. She smiled so tenderly to him, echoing the happiness he felt.

"Screw waiting, I'm kissing the bride!"

He dipped her low and kissed her long enough that he started to feel dizzy. He would have gladly taken it from there and kissed her right on the floor of the auditorium, but Demoman cleared his throat.

"The ring?" Demoman said.

"Oh yeah. Just hand it down here and I'll slip it on," Soldier said. The whole floor idea was looking better and better.

"At least we couldn't book the church," Miss Pauling said with a sigh.

 

*

About a forty-five minutes of desperate making out (among other things) on the floor, they went off to the reception. During that time, someone---likely Demoman—had gotten a keg. He proudly did kegstands for the admiring Yana, and a more disinterested, and drunk Sniper.

They couldn't book band at the late date, but they'd managed to scrounge a Victrola. Soldier had insisted on _"Praise The Lord And Pass The Ammunition"_ for his wedding dance. Even that song didn't keep Demoman and Sniper from drunk dancing, with Yana joining in with her more sober version. 

Zhanna made a disgusted noise. "Look at how disgustingly happy they are. Daring to upstage me on my own wedding."

He hadn't seen Miss Pauling smile this munch since she was covered in goo and stuck inside a bread monster. Scout spun her around, so her skirt spun out. She laughed at something everyone heard, because Scout had no filter.

"They're cute. _Too_ cute. We have to kill them," Soldier said.

"We do this cold. We do this Russian. If I'm an honorary American, then you are an honorary communist," she said.

He looked down, and his coat was _red_! He'd always thought that RED stood for the flag, but he'd never thought deeper to the Russian menace that must lie behind Mann co. Was the communist hippies with horrible haircuts he was fighting all along himself? Was the enemy staring back in the mirror, just lurking with jangly folk songs about freedom and flower crowns?

But deep inside him, patriotism, and yes, love for this woman overwhelmed him. Communism held no power over him.

"We took the pizza and made it American, and by Abraham Lincoln's flamethower, I'll plant my flag in you and this dance and make it a _real American pastime!_ "

He followed her lead in the very American Russian step dance.

And frankly, the look on Scout's face was priceless.

**Author's Note:**

> [Praise The Lord And Pass The Ammunition](http://youtube.com/watch?v=LJfJPxLntZU) by Kay Kaser is the wedding dance song.


End file.
